


what we become

by jeepsarmitage



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 20:03:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4405613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeepsarmitage/pseuds/jeepsarmitage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i> The ghost of what once was hovers over what exists now and Carmilla feels that sometimes she is a ghost in her own body.  </i> </p><p>or: <b> Carmilla during Laura's crying montage in ep 15 </b></p>
            </blockquote>





	what we become

**what we become**

 

**.**

 

_"who we are and who we become depends, in part, on whom we love"_

_\- Thomas Lewis, A General Theory of Love_

 

//

Perhaps walking through the mountains in the middle of the night is not the best idea Carmilla has ever had, but to be completely honest she didn’t care all that much. The amount of anger and frustration and _hurt_ that she feels takes charge of her body, and for the first time in a very long time she feels what it is like for her emotions to rule her.

 

It is a battle. Two parts of her, fighting against each other for dominance and the chaos that ensues is tortuous and she is left with a feeling of vulnerability that sits in the pit of her stomach and weighs down her heart. She’s weak against herself. Weak to a point where all she can do it sit and _feel._

 

Because there is a war raging inside of her and it’s tearing her apart one small piece at a time.

 

She stumbles to a halt, dropping to the ground and crawling the last few feet to the cover of a bush where she finally stops and collapses in a heap on the ground. The sobs that tremble through her cause her body to shake and shive and ache in ways she hasn’t felt for many decades, and it’s a moment in which she wishes she could reach inside of her chest and pull out the heart that had stopped beating so long ago. That in the transformation that took her humanity also took her ability to feel because maybe being a stone-cold monster is a better alternative to this.

 

At least then, Laura would be right. She would be a monster, incapable of change or feeling of any description. She wouldn’t even be anything worthy of attention or love. She’d not even be a person, not really. She’d be an ‘ _it’_ ; where the monster inside of her finally breaks free and the small fraction of humanity that remains is destroyed. Finally, totally and completely destroyed.

 

Maybe then she’d really be free.

 

Maybe then this would hurt less. Or not at all.

 

//

 

It was stupid, really, to think that she could have friends.

 

For the longest time she had been alone, so the mere idea that there were people who wanted to be around her without really expecting anything in return was a strange one. She had gone with it, however annoying the Ginger Squad appeared. They cared about her, in a way, and it was nice, their annoying, mortal tendencies aside.

 

And Laura… It was stupid to think that Laura could love Carmilla for her. She should have listened all those years ago when maman had told her that no one could ever love her. Not really. Not wholly and unconditionally as she would like. For all maman’s faults, she was usually correct when it came to human interactions.

 

Thousands of years experience in that area did assist her in that area.

But Carmilla had defied it, hoping vainly that maybe Laura would be the exception simply because she had known of Carmilla’s true nature at the conception of the relationship. Of course that wouldn’t help. Of course it wouldn’t; Laura had kissed her after Carmilla at sacrificed her life and that image of the perfect heroine vampire had implemented itself inside of her brain and it was upon that very image that Laura had built their relationship. By the time Carmilla had seen it, it was too far entrenched and there was no way to remove it without severing the relationship entirely.

 

And breaking her own heart in the process.

 

It was naive of her to believe that she could be truly happy. A childish dream that she should let go of.

 

She knows she can’t, though. That small sliver of humanity that lives within her wont allow it. If she were to let go of the idea that happiness can exist, even for her, she would have to let go of that humanity, and to do that would be to sacrifice the very thing she had worked so hard to retain.

 

And even after three hundred years of existence she was not yet ready to give up on herself entirely.

 

//

 

Time seems irrelevant when you’ve lived for so much of it, and yet Carmilla is still surprised to see the sun rising over the mountains.

 

She hasn’t moved since she placed herself next to the bush, and her body creaks as she stretches out; bones cracking as she forces her lifeless body to reanimate. There is a brief internal battle wherein she is tempted to return to the apartment, but the ache in her chest is still raw and so she steels herself and heads forward into the mountains.

 

//

 

Decades of living in the area comes in handy every now and again, the present being one of the former.

 

Dotted throughout the countryside are safe-house; places where vampires can regroup and recover. Carmilla is familiar with those in Styria, having stayed in them many a time since her stint in the coffin. She had taken to leaving a bag of supplies at each one, in case she should ever need it and as she retrieves such a bag she is thankful for her past self for the preparation.

 

A young vampire named Felix runs this safe-house, and upon her entry he prepares a mug of blood and hands it to her without question.

 

“Rough night?”

 

“You don’t want to know.”

 

He nods and leaves her be, having known Carmilla for two decades now and knowing that she is not one to talk about personal issues. It’s one of the reasons Carmilla likes him so much.

 

“Room 15 is empty. You can stay in there for a few days.” He pushes the mug towards her. She nods and drinks it in three gulps before moving towards the vacant room.

 

There isn’t much a change of clothes can’t fix.

 

//

 

(she’s ignoring the pain in her chest, for now and focussing on the physical)

 

//

 

It’s not all that surprising when Felix tells her that Mattie had come looking for her. She was half expecting it, but didn’t really believe that it would happen.

 

He had turned her away, getting the impression that Carmilla hadn’t wanted to be disturbed and she thanks him because it was true. It starts her thinking, though, about scenarios that she probably shouldn’t be thinking of because it makes her all that more aware of the pain in her chest (that had dulled to an ache but it was still painful).

 

Mattie didn’t come looking for her again, or if she did no one informed her and Carmilla didn’t ask.

 

She didn’t want to know.

 

She didn’t want to think about it.

 

//

 

When she was a child her father had told her that she was too stubborn for her own good. That no gentleman would wish to marry her if she was too stubborn to agree with him on anything. Little human Carmilla had argued that if a man didn’t love her for everything she was, she didn’t wish to marry him in the first place.

 

Of course, she had been merely ten years old and all too impressionable then, and he father had laughed and said that she would change her mind in due time. She just needed to meet the right gentleman. Carmilla had disagreed and said as much, but the conversation had dropped and the topic wasn’t brought up again until she was sixteen and her mother had started searching for a suitable man to become Carmilla’s husband.

 

None of them had met her standards, of course, and she would discover many years later that it was because she was inclined towards women. At the time, however, both of her parents were convinced it was because Carmilla was far too stubborn for any man to even flirt with the idea of falling in love with her.

 

There are times now, so many years after any of the would-have husbands had lived and died, Carmilla wonders if her parents had been correct after all.

 

//

 

She doesn’t stay long at the safe-house, but she doesn’t immediately go back to Silas either. Instead she makes her way through the mountainside, taking the back route to the University so as to compose herself for the confrontation that would no doubt take place.

 

It is her mother’s apartment, after all, and therefore for all intents and purposes it is hers. She won’t kick the humans out. She isn’t that cruel, but she shouldn’t be forced to leave it either because technically it is hers.

 

There is no rush to return to it, though.

 

//

 

Carmilla has always been a fan of being alone, and there is something rather serene about being alone in the mountains of Styria.

 

It really is a beautiful country, and despite the fact that it has been ravaged by human occupation she can still see the remains of what was _her_ Styria. The place that she was born in, the place that she died in, and the place that she would, should the time come, be returned to.

 

The ghost of what once was hovers over what exists now and Carmilla feels that sometimes she is a ghost in her own body. Who she once was hovers under the surface of the creature she has become, and sometimes she wonders just what kind of an existence that is.

 

//

 

As the university comes into view, Carmilla transforms herself. It’s a well practiced transformation that she has perfected throughout the years she was her mother’s minion. Her hair gets pulled back and she walks with her shoulders back in a well-versed dance of dominance.

 

Laura turns as she enters, and for a moment the pain shoots through her chest again but this time it is not the emotions controlling her but rather years of experience in hiding herself from the outside world for fear of losing what little part of her she retains.

 

Perhaps she shouldn’t. Perhaps she should instead sit down and explain and show Laura that she is more than the monster that fights for dominance in her body but no matter how much she tries to be, that monster is and always will be a large part of who she is now.

 

Perhaps she should do a lot of things, but instead she steels her jaw and squares her shoulders and walks with purpose, all the while the ache in her chest reminding her of who she was.

 

Of who she has become.

 


End file.
